


Between Pleasure and Pain

by sadtomato



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Kink Negotiation, POV First Person, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-17
Updated: 2010-10-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadtomato/pseuds/sadtomato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella and Edward explore their kinky sides with the help of their mentor, Carlisle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a long time ago and posted on FFN, and then it got pulled sometime in 2013 or 2014 due to TOS violations (or so I assume, they didn't really tell me why). I'm re-posting it here because I've had a lot of messages asking about it. I don't imagine there's much of a new audience for this, but for those who read it and enjoyed it back in the day, it will remain posted here.
> 
> Warnings: Some of the kink here is not planned and undernegotiated. There are also vague references to negotiations that occur between chapters that you don't get to see. Everything is consensual, but the characters are beginners and it's not always explicitly communicated within the story. If you have any concerns about that, you may want to skip this one (or feel free to message me if you have specific questions).

_BPOV_  
"Bella, baby, you feel so good," he whispers, kissing my neck and rocking his hips against mine. "Are you close?" he asks. I can tell that he is by the way that he's moving-- erratic and desperate.

  
"Mmm, Edward, you feel good, too. Harder, baby," I encourage him. Everything he's doing feels good. Making love with Edward is always... nice. He's so tender, pouring all of his love for me into every kiss, every touch, every movement. Being with him like this makes me feel cherished. But it doesn't make me come.

  
He gives me orgasms, sure, but usually before we have sex. He loves to go down on me, and he never fails to get me there quickly. Actual sex, though... well, it's a lot harder for me to come. I tell him it's not his fault, that a lot of women have trouble getting there from penetration alone. I don't tell him the real reason I'm not coming.

  
"Is that good, sweetheart? Is this too hard?" he asks, lifting his head to look into my eyes. He's not moving harder against me, not that I can feel. I want to tell him it can never be too hard. I want to open my mouth and beg him to pound me, break me, punish me with his cock. I want him to tie my wrists to his grandmother's stupid antique headboard and fuck me until I scream.

  
But I don't. I can't. He wouldn't understand; my sweet, tender husband would never be capable of those things. He's the kind of guy that lights candles in the bathroom and draws me a bath after I've had a rough day. He leaves me love notes that I find in my pockets during the day. When we started dating, it took him three months to work up the nerve to take off my clothes. I love that he takes care of me, and I don't want that to stop. I don't want him to be see me differently--treat me differently--when I tell him the dark desires that have haunted me for as long as I can remember.

  
"Yeah, that's so good. Mmm, Edward, I love you," I whisper, lifting my head to kiss him. The kiss is slow and sweet, definitely not enough to push me over the edge. I wrap my arms around him, pull him back down, and push his face against my neck. I want to come with him, and I find myself closing my eyes, letting my mind drift to some of my fantasies: Edward, standing over me with a paddle, about to spank me. Edward tying my ankles to the bedposts, forcing me to spread my legs. Edward's voice whispering the words from the dirty stories I read online...

  
"God, Bella! Yes!" he shouts, throwing his head back as he pulses inside me. He stills, riding out his orgasm, and I wrap my arms around him, ruffling his hair affectionately. He pulls out, flopping down beside me and breathing heavily. "Mmmmmm, I love you," he hums, kissing my neck. "Want me to...?" he asks, his fingers trailing down my side to rest on my belly, right above my aching clit.

  
"No, baby, I'm good. I came so hard from your mouth," I answer, tracing my finger around his lips. I feel too guilty to let him get me off. He was making love to me, worshipping my body, and I wasn't here with him at all. I was thinking about another life, another Edward. I blink back tears, moving closer to him and burying my face in his shoulder so he won't see.

  
"I love you, Bella," he says again, quietly.

 

_EPOV_

  
"Um, I'm looking for Dr. Masen? He’s a resident? Is he around?" Bella asks, not having spotted me yet. I'm just a few feet behind her, watching her nervously approach the nurse's desk. I lean back against the wall, enjoying the opportunity to stare at her unabashedly. She’s lovely--always a little shy around people she doesn’t know, but polite and friendly. I’m torn between calling out to her and hanging back to check out her ass.

  
"I haven't seen him," Jessica, the desk clerk, answers. She doesn't look up from her paperwork. Jessica is rude to everyone, so I'm not surprised.

  
"Oh. I'm supposed to, um, meet him? Do you think you could page him?" she asks, tentatively. Jessica sighs heavily, lifting her eyes to Bella, and frowns when she sees me standing behind her.

  
"He's right there," she answers Bella, tilting her head in my direction. And that is the most effort Jessica will put forth all day. I shake my head at her laziness before Bella turns to me and steals my focus. I feel my shoulders lift, the weight of my busy day melting away. Her shy smile still dazzles me, even after four years together.

  
We met while I was in medical school; Bella was an undergrad, and she came in with a twisted ankle while I was doing my rotation in the ER. I took her medical history and tried not to stare at her too much; she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever met, and I wanted to make her mine. She was shy, though, flushing with embarrassment every time I asked her a question.

  
I didn't ask her out that night, thinking she'd find it inappropriate, but I did notice on her paperwork that she worked at a local coffee shop. I made a habit of stopping by every morning, chatting her up while she made my latte. When I finally asked her out, she happily agreed. We dated for a year before I asked her to marry me, and we eloped soon after that. Bella didn't want all the fuss and attention of a big wedding, and all I wanted was to make Bella happy and keep her safe.

  
"Hello, Wife," I greet her. She zigzags over to me, dodging an intern and an orderly as she crosses the hallway.

  
"Hello, Dr. Masen," she responds, and I pull her in for a hug.

  
"I love it when you call me doctor," I whisper, flexing my hips slightly so she can feel how much I love it.

  
"That's why I do it, Dr. Masen," she answers. I laugh, kissing her cheeks, and drop my charts off at the front desk. We head to the cafeteria, hand in hand, and I listen to Bella tell me about her morning class. My schedule at the hospital is crazy, and we often go days without seeing each other at home. Bella's schedule teaching literature at the local community college is more flexible. She is always kind enough to go out of her way to meet me at the hospital for lunch to squeeze in as much quality time as we can.

  
We pick out the best items from the shitty cafeteria menu and make our way to a table in the corner. She flirts with me all through lunch, leaning forward to touch my arm and licking her lips. Sometimes I wish I could pull her into an empty room and have sex with her here, but that kind of thing never works in real life- only on TV shows. Bella would never go for that, anyway... she would be mortified to have sex in public.

  
"Masen, did you hear anything back from the lab on that CHF patient?" I hear, jolting me out of my Bella-in-the-on-call-room fantasy. I look up at Carlisle Cullen, one of the surgical attendings, and pull my hand away from Bella's. He's important here, and I don't want him to think I'm just a kid mooning over his girl in the cafeteria.

  
"Not yet, Dr. Cullen. We should have them by four, and I'll run them upstairs to consult with you," I tell him. He nods his head, checking his pager distractedly. "Carlisle, this is my wife, Bella. Bella, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen." She reaches out to shake his hand, and his eyes snap to her face as though he just realized she was there.

  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Cullen," she says shyly. He smiles and lifts her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips against it. Bella's face flushes in embarrassment and she pulls her hand back into her lap.

  
"The pleasure is all mine, Bella," he answers. Bella blushes, pulling her hand away, and he turns to walk away. "Dr. Masen," he says, nodding politely as he exits the cafeteria.

  
"The pleasure is all mine, Bella," I mock him quietly after he leaves.

  
"What? He seems nice," Bella replies, narrowing her eyebrows at me.

  
"Yeah, real nice..." I mutter, remembering the rumors that circulate about his rather... unique personal life.

  
"He was just being polite. He wasn't hitting on me, Edward." Bella is oblivious to her effect on men; she's never believed that anyone was hitting on her, even when guys in college bars were buying her drinks left and right.

  
"No, he probably just wants to take you down to his dungeon," I tease, lowering my voice. I try not to listen to the gossip that runs rampant around this hospital, but everyone's heard the legends of Dr. Cullen's sexual habits.

  
"Dungeon?" Bella asks, leaning forward in interest. I match her posture, checking to make sure no one is in earshot before I fill her in.

  
"Yeah, one of the nurses dated him for a while and told everyone that he has a full-on dungeon in his house. Chains, whips, shackles, all that shit. Said he was into some really kinky stuff," I tell her, whispering so that no one walking by would hear. Bella's face flushes in embarrassment, and she looks down at her cup of coffee. She's probably never been exposed to anything like this. I reach over and caress her wrist, rubbing my thumb against the back of her hand.

  
"Don't worry, baby, I'd never let anyone like that come near you. He's just a pervert." She nods her head, but doesn't look up at me. The poor thing must be really embarrassed by this conversation. "You ready to go?" I ask her, gathering up our trash.

  
"Yeah, let's go," she says, sighing as she stands up to join me.

 

_BPOV_

  
It's Friday night and Edward's working late. I try to grade papers, clean the house, read a book, but nothing works. I saw Dr. Cullen again last night, when I stopped by the hospital to drop off some dinner for Edward. He didn't see me, but I was able to study him for a minute while he talked to another doctor in the hallway.

  
It's all I've been able to think about for weeks- Carlisle Cullen and his dungeon. I've Googled him, looked for him on Facebook (he's not there) and made extra trips to the hospital hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Don't get me wrong--I love my husband more than anything and would never cheat on him. But I'm fascinated by this handsome, successful man who lives a lifestyle I've only encountered in fantasies. I'm not even sure that he does, but I can't stop imagining it.

  
I sigh and climb up into bed. The clock catches my eye- it's only 9:30. Edward won't be home for an hour, at least. I shouldn't... but maybe just for a few minutes...

  
I flip my laptop open, typing in the name of the website I know by heart. I scroll to the BDSM section, and glance at the new stories to see if anything catches my eye. There are a few that look promising, but... my body is already aroused from picturing Carlisle in his dungeon and I need something guaranteed to do the trick. I find one of my favorite authors and click through her stories until I find the one I want. It's filthy, full of vulgar words that Edward would never say. I read, savoring every word, imagining I can feel every stroke, every slap on my skin. Imagining they're coming from Edward's hands.

  
My left hand slips under my panties, and I use the other hand to scroll down the page. Mmm... I put myself and Edward in place of the main characters, imagining him restraining me and teasing me. Imagining him bringing me to the edge and keeping me there. I close my eyes, my fingers stroking my slick skin furiously, imagining Edward's voice commanding me not to come until he gives me permission.

  
But then it's not Edward, not anymore. It's Carlisle, and he's commanding me. He tells me I'm not allowed to come. He's fucking me, spanking me, and telling me that he owns me, that I belong to him. I beg him to let me come, but he denies me again and again. I'm so close, so close to coming and I want him to push me until I do.

  
"Bella?" Edward asks, his voice hoarse. My eyes open and I see him standing over me in his scrubs, his eyes wide. I was so involved in my fantasy that I didn't even hear him come in. I pull my hand out of my panties and hide it behind me, as though hiding the evidence of my arousal will make this any better. Tears sting my eyes as I feel the weight of his stare, and I can't even look at him. I close my eyes and turn away, wishing I could crawl out of my skin and hide.

  
I don't know what I'm expecting--I guess for him to walk away, or to yell, but he shocks me when he grabs my laptop and turns the screen towards him.

  
"NO!" I shout, lifting up on my knees and reaching for the computer. He pulls it out of my grasp, twisting away so I can't reach it, and I slump down in defeat, mortified. I can't stop him, he's already seen enough to know what I was reading. He skims the screen, raising his eyebrows at what he finds.

  
"What have you been reading, B? This looks kinda hot," he says. I'm surprised that he's not angry with me. I feel hot tears spilling down over my cheeks as discovers my secret shame. "Hey, are you crying? Bella, don't cry. It's okay," he adds, tossing the computer on the bed before he sits next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

  
"I'm sorry," I whisper, wiping the tears away and taking a deep breath to control myself.

  
"Had to start without me, huh?" he asks, cupping my chin and forcing me to look up at him. He wipes my tears away, kissing my cheeks. "C'mere," he says, leaning back against the headboard and pulling me with him. He spreads his legs, settling me between them, and reaches for my computer.

  
"Edward, what..." I ask, unable to get out the words I want to say.

  
"Let's read it together, okay?" he asks gently.

  
"You don't have to... I wasn't really..." I stumble, searching my brain for the right thing to tell him.

  
"Where were you?" he asks, and my shaking hand lifts to point at the screen.

  
"Is this what you need, my little pet?" he recites, and my eyes flicker back to the screen to see the words. He reads in a low, gruff voice that makes my heart race. I close my eyes, letting him read to me, feeling more aroused than I've ever been by reading the words to myself.

  
Edward's left hand is balancing the computer on his knee, scrolling down as he reads through the chapter, and his right arm is wrapped around my waist. I feel his hand slide down lower as he reads, over my panties, until his fingers are pressing against my clit rhythmically. I push myself against them, his words and his touch bringing me back to the edge quickly.

  
"I released the cuffs and tied her hands behind her back, enjoying the way her breasts were thrust forward for me," he reads, and my body responds. My back arches, and Edward's hand moves up to cup my breast. "Her tight nipple was begging for attention, and I squeezed it roughly, earning a scream." Edward pinches my nipple hard, harder than he ever has, and suddenly my brain starts working again, lets me speak.

  
"Edward, please, I want you. Please," I moan, over and over, moving in his arms and twisting around to face him. I hear him snap the laptop closed and toss it over the side of the bed. His strong arms push me off of his lap, rolling me onto my stomach. He kneels on the bed, pulling my hips up with his hands so my ass is in the air. For a sweet, delicious moment I think he's going to spank me, but he moves behind me--too close to get any leverage.  
"I want you too, Bella. I'm gonna take you, right now, just like this," he warns, pulling my panties down my thighs. He doesn't even slide them down my legs, just leaves them around my knees. I expect his fingers to explore me, make sure I'm ready, but the only warning I get is a brief pause when the head of his cock touches my entrance. He thrusts hard, moving my whole body forward with the force of it, and enters me.

  
"Oh, Edward," I moan, gripping the sheet with both hands and relishing every sensation as he fucks me like I've always wanted, finally. His movements are rough and stilted, in a rhythm he isn't used to, but they feel amazing to me. I'm so close, I need to come desperately. I relax my fist, pulling one arm back and reaching down towards my clit. Edward surprises me by grabbing my elbow, lifting my arm over my body so it's slightly twisted behind me.

  
"No. I'm gonna make you come, Bella. Just me," he grunts, holding me still with one hand gripping my wrist and the other holding on to my shoulder.

"Come, Bella," he commands, and I wish it could be magical like that. I just need... I just need a little more...

  
"Edward, please, touch me!" I beg, my voice strained. He lets go of my wrist, but leans forward over me- trapping my hand between us. He reaches around my body, zeroing in on my clit and rubbing it furiously.

  
Then Edward growls, "Is this what you need, my little pet?" And suddenly it all connects: my trapped hand trapped, Edward's firm touch, his gruff voice, the sexy words from the story. I scream and clench, gasping for breath as I come and come and come. I lose the strength to hold myself up, and I fall forward into the pillow. Somehow I'm aware of Edward shouting through his release as well. He calls my name. My heart is still thundering, my body trembling.

  
"Oh, Bella," he whispers, rolling off of me. He's lying on his back, stretching his arms over his head, catching his breath. "We're gonna have to do that again."

 

_EPOV_

  
Fuck. Did that really happen last night? I stretch out in bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I reach over for Bella, but her side is empty. I let my mind drift to last night; how happy I was to be getting out of work early for the first time in months. It had been a long day and all I wanted to do was fall into bed and crash. I was climbing the stairs, checking the baseball scores on my phone, when I heard a quiet moan coming from our bedroom. I was shocked when I opened the door to investigate and saw my girl leaning back against the pillows, her computer open on her lap. Her hand was in her panties and she was rocking against it.

  
I'll never forget the look on her face after I called her name--panic, pure fear. For a moment I wondered if she were cheating... if there was another person she were chatting with. I grabbed the computer away from her and stared at the screen. Words jumped out at me: pet. cuffs. spanked. fucked. My girl was getting off to some dirty shit and I got hard as soon as I saw it. She looked so sad, hanging her head in shame, and I wanted--needed--to make her feel better. I held her, read to her, watched in awe as her body came alive when I handled it roughly for the first time. She'd always seemed so hesitant, almost afraid, and I'd never dared to touch her like that before.

  
My dick starts twitching at the memory, and I adjust myself before I get too carried away. I climb out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, and follow the scent of coffee down to our little kitchen. Bella is sitting at the table, wearing one of my old t-shirts and a pair of cotton shorts. Her knees are drawn up against her chest, and she is picking at a bagel absently. She looks away as soon as I walk in, giving me a quiet "Hi."

  
"Morning, Baby," I tell her, bending to kiss her forehead before moving to pour myself a cup of coffee. I hold up the carafe to see if she wants more, but she shakes her head. I pour myself a bowl of cereal, groaning when I see what comes out of the box. Bella is trying to wean me from kids cereals by mixing Kashi into my Lucky Charms. I see fewer and fewer marshmallows every week. She is still nervously eviscerating her bagel when I sit down, so I make a show of grumbling about my cereal to lighten the mood. She finally cracks a smile when I throw a green clover marshmallow at her head.

  
"There's my girl," I tease, throwing a purple horseshoe. She catches it, tossing it back and giggling. "How are you this morning?" I ask, casually, trying to feel her out. I need to make sure she's okay with what we did. And I really want to find out if she has any other dirty little secrets.

  
"Good," she answers, taking a sip from her coffee mug. "Kind of embarrassed, but um, good."

  
"Yeah, about walking in on you last night... I'd say I'm sorry, baby, but I'm really not." I grin, reaching over and pulling her chair closer to mine. "Did you like what we did last night?"

  
"Yes... definitely," she mumbles, looking down at her cup of coffee. I reach over and lift her chin with my index finger.

  
"Did you like it when I read to you? Do you want me to do that again?" I watch as she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes locked on mine. She nods her head slowly. "Good. I liked it too, Bella. How many stories like that have you read?"

  
"Ummmm... a lot," she answers, fidgeting.

  
"How long have you been into that... reading stories like that?" I ask gently. I don't want to put her on the spot, but I am curious. It hurts my pride a little to know that she gets off like this without me. She takes a deep breath, wrapping one arm around her stomach.

  
"A long time, Edward. Since... since before we met." I bite my tongue, trying to swallow my reaction. Since before we met? For the entire time I've known her, she's been reading kinky shit online and she's never told me?

  
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I ask, looking down at my cereal.

  
"I don't know," she says, defensive. "I just never knew how to... how to talk about it. I've always been kind of ashamed." She looks away, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

  
"Bella, look at me." I wait for her to turn her head back towards me, lift her eyes to mine. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Some of the stuff in that story was a little kinky, but it's nothing outrageous, Baby. You don't have to hide any of your fantasies from me." She nods, leaning forward to rest her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her back, squeezing her tightly.

  
"What about you?" she asks. "Do you have any um, fantasies?" She whispers "fantasies" like a kid saying a dirty word.

  
"Mmm, yeah," I tell her, thinking back to all the things I've dismissed as too dirty, too crazy, too wild for my sweet Bella. "How would you feel about me tying your hands to the headboard?" I whisper, and I feel her shudder in my arms. She lifts her head to look me in the eye again, a wicked smile on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

_EPOV_

"Dr. Cullen," I greet him, reaching out to shake his hand. Bella clings to my arm, smiling shyly at Carlisle. We're at a reception for a visiting physician, so everyone is dressed nicely. It’s strange to see the men dressed in suits instead of the typical green scrubs. Bella is wearing a soft, gray dress with short sleeves and a modest neckline. She isn’t showing a lot of skin, but the way the dress hugs her curves makes her the sexiest woman in the room.

"Dr. Masen," he nods at me politely before his eyes travel to my glowing wife. "Ahhh, and the beautiful Bella! It's so lovely to see you again. Are you having a nice time?" She giggles, looking down at her nearly empty glass of champagne.

"Yes, thank you," she says, blushing. I look down at her, watching her bite her lip, and wink when she catches my eye. Since the night I caught her touching herself, we've grown a lot closer; sharing our fantasies and exploring some of them together. I'm still hesitant to inflict any real pain, but she's told me that she wants it. On our way to the reception this evening she shared her fascination with my story of Carlisle and his dungeon.

"Would you like another glass of champagne?" he asks, signaling a passing waiter. He switches out Bella's glass with a full one, and she gulps the champagne down greedily. We make small talk for a while, Bella tucked under my arm while we face Carlisle. He mentions some renovations to his home- something about reinforcing some beams- and Bella shocks the hell out of me when she blurts out her next sentence.

"For your dungeon?" she asks, slapping her hand over her mouth as soon as the words are out. She's frozen, mortified, and I can feel myself blushing, too. Carlisle just looks amused.

"Dungeon, huh?" he asks, directing the question to me. I try to look contrite, leaning in to tell him the truth.

"Some of the nurses... well there are some rumors. I don't believe them, I swear, I guess I just mentioned it to Bella in passing..." He chuckles, raising his glass to me.

"No worries, Masen. I know all about the rumors. I don't have a dungeon in my house," he admits, and I think I feel Bella's shoulders slump a little. He takes a swig of champagne before continuing. "It's more of a playroom."

Bella definitely reacts to that, straightening up and looking Carlisle in the eyes. We've done plenty of research online and read a bunch of her dirty stories together, and most of them feature some kind of playroom.

"Really?" she asks, in wonder. She's leaning forward, her eyes wide.

"Yes," Carlisle answers, locking eyes with Bella, and then with me. "Do you two play?" he asks, looking back and forth between Bella and me. We share one of those husband-and-wife moments; a silent conversation, deciding how much to tell this man we barely know. I certainly don't relish sharing my sex life with my colleagues, but the thought of telling someone--knowing they won't judge me--is intriguing. Bella shifts her eyebrows slightly, indicating she's leaving the decision to me.

"We're... learning," I answer, after a long pause. Bella exhales loudly, twisting her fingers in the fabric of my jacket. Carlisle's eyes spark with excitement.

"Learning? Ahhh, I see." He grins, taking a step forward. Bella turns her head, burying her face in my shoulder. "No worries, Bella. I was just wondering, for the purposes of education, if you'd like to see my playroom. I'm only five minutes away from here. I could give you a tour," he offers. 

"Bella, baby?" I whisper, leaning down to press my lips against her ear. "Do you wanna go? Just take a look around?" She lifts her head just slightly and nods at me, and I know she's thinking about what might happen. We talked about this, when we went over the checklists she printed from the Internet--the possibility of letting someone watch us. I'm not sure if that's what Carlisle wants, but at the very least I'm curious to see his playroom. I’m not sure if Bella wants something like that in our home, so it will be nice to see a working example before we consider redecorating the guest room.

"We don't have to go tonight," I whisper, keeping an eye on Carlisle as he pretends to study the champagne flute and politely ignore our conversation. Bella stretches up on her tiptoes, whispering back into my ear.

"I'm just drunk enough to do this... can we go? Just for a little bit? While I'm brave?" she pleads. I can't deny her anything, and I nod my assent.

"Carlisle?" I ask, getting his attention again. "We would love to... stop by and check out your place." He chuckles, draining the last of his champagne and setting his glass on a nearby table.

"Shall we?" he asks, gesturing towards the door. Bella and I follow him to the parking lot, embarrassed to climb into our old Volvo and follow him in his shiny, new BMW. He leads us down the street and turns onto a winding drive. We reach our destination quickly, as promised, and park in the driveway behind Carlisle. He leads us into the house, taking our coats and politely offering us something to drink.

We both decline- Bella's already a little tipsy and I want to keep a clear head. I trust Carlisle completely at work, but in this situation I'm not sure what his motives are. He leads us through the house, pointing out different rooms and a few interesting pieces of artwork. We climb the stairs, passing two bedrooms and a bathroom, stopping in front of the only closed door.

"This is the playroom," he announces, as though that isn't obvious to us at this point. Bella's hand is gripping mine tightly, and I can feel my heart thumping. He pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, gesturing for us to follow him. He walks in, flips on a few lights, and walks casually towards the back of the room.

Bella and I enter, clinging to each other's hands. We look around, taking in the slate grey walls adorned with black and white photographs. The pictures aren't pornographic, per se, but more erotic- they all seem to be closeups of women's bodies. A shoulder, a hip, a graceful foot en pointe. There's a large bed dominating the right half of the room, with a heavy mahogany bed frame and navy bedding. The other half of the room has some furniture that I recognize from reading descriptions in Bella’s favorite stories,  even though I haven't seen the pieces in person before.

There's a mahogany cross affixed to the wall. A waist-high bench made with the same type of wood lies in the middle of the floor. A chest of drawers is shoved against the wall next to the door, and a large mirror covers the wall above it. There seems to be a large empty space between the chest and the cross, but then I notice the chains hanging from the ceiling.

Carlisle is flipping through some CDs, choosing one to slip into the CD player that hangs on the wall. I don't recognize the music, but it sounds kind of new-age and ethereal. Nothing like the Led Zeppelin he prefers to listen to in the operating room.

"See anything you're interested in?" he asks, turning to face us. We're still standing just inside the door. Bella steps toward the cross, tugging me behind her. She approaches it, running her fingers over the smooth, dark wood.

"I know what that's for," she says, pointing to the bench behind her, "but what do you use this for?"

"Restraint, my dear," he answers, moving closer. "May I show you?" he asks her, but his eyes meet mine. I nod my assent, resting my hand protectively on Bella's back but allowing him to maneuver her limbs. She's facing the wall, and he guides her forward until her chest is flush against it. He lifts her hands, placing them on the cuffs at the top of the cross but not buckling her in. Kneeling, he spreads her legs apart at the ankles, aligning them with the cross.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" he asks me. I nod, pulling my jacket closed with hope that it covers my growing erection. "You can whip her like this. She won't be able to move... it's very intense. Or, if you choose, you can turn her so she's facing forward."

He pulls Bella's wrists down to her sides, spinning her around so she's facing us. Her eyes are bright and her breathing is heavy- I know she's aroused, but I’m not sure what's causing it- the position, the room, or Carlisle. He lifts her arms again, holding them against the wood before he leans down to whisper in her ear. She immediately grabs the cuffs and spreads her legs, looking down to make sure she's aligned with the cross.

"When she's facing you, you can have a little more fun with her. You could use a riding crop on her here," he says, motioning to her thighs, "or you could clamp her nipples. You can tease her all night long if you want to, she's not going anywhere." He's addressing me, but Bella's the one squirming.

"I'm afraid of hurting her," I admit, hoping for some guidance. He's so clearly in control here, and he seems eager to share his expertise. I'm afraid we might not have a chance to ask questions like this again.

"Let me show you," he says, gesturing for me to follow him. Bella lowers her arms, stepping forward with one foot as if to follow us. Carlisle stops and glares at her. She freezes, looking to me with wide, fearful eyes. "Edward?" he prompts me, raising an eyebrow.

I walk back to Bella, stroking her hair and placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Stay here, baby," I whisper, lifting her hands again. This time I cuff her to the cross, tightening the straps so she can't move her hands. She whimpers and spreads her legs, but I decide not to cuff her there just yet. Carlisle reaches for her hand, slipping a finger between her wrist and the strap. I mimic his action on her other side, realizing that he's checking to make sure it isn't too tight.

"Ask her to move her wrists, make sure it isn't pinching," he murmurs, his eyes on me.

"Bella? Can you move your wrists?" I ask. She nods, making a fist and rolling her wrist slightly. I nod at Carlisle, and he moves back to the chest of drawers at the front of the room. Opening the top drawer, he shows me a selection of riding crops. He explains the differences between the sizes and shapes, choosing a short black crop before he closes the drawer.

"Give me your arm," he asks, and I struggle to pull the sleeve of my suit jacket up before giving up and taking it off. I roll up my shirtsleeves, noticing Carlisle has removed his jacket as well. He grabs my wrist, holding my arm out between us, and pulls the riding crop back quickly. He lets it fly, a loud slap ringing out as it hits my skin.

"Ow! Jesus Christ!" I shout, pulling my arm back. It hurts like a motherfucker.

"That, my friend, is how you hurt someone. To get the desired effect, you don't need to put much power in it at all," he explains. "Come on," he chastises me, pulling my arm back towards him. He hits me with the crop again, flicking his wrist, and it's not painful at all. Just a slight sting. He thwaps the crop softly up and down my forearm, and I pay attention to his technique. After a few more taps, he flips the riding crop around and puts the handle in my hand. He offers up his own forearm.

"You sure?" I ask, surprised he's putting his trust in me. I glance over at Bella, who is watching us intently.

"Gotta learn somehow, right? Just be careful, Masen, I'm a surgeon." He grins, putting me at ease. I bring the crop down, hitting his arm just below his elbow. "Good, use your wrist more, not your elbow," he coaches me.

I hit him a few times, getting the hang of it, before he stops me. Turning his back to Bella, he leans in to whisper his next instructions.

  

_BPOV_

I tug against the wrist cuffs, enjoying the cool leather rubbing against my skin. Carlisle is giving Edward a lesson- hitting him with a riding crop, letting Edward hit him back. Being here- in this room- watching these two sexy, dominant men is driving me crazy. I shift my legs, rubbing my thighs together to relieve some of the ache, but Carlisle catches me and shakes his head slightly. I spread my legs again, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When I look up again, Carlisle is leaning close to Edward, whispering in his ear.

Edward nods, whispering back to Carlisle occasionally, but he doesn't take his eyes off me the entire time. Finally, their little huddle breaks up and both men approach me. I note with excitement that Edward is still holding the riding crop. He approaches me, the crop at his side, and raises his free hand to cup my chin.

"Are you okay?" he asks, holding my gaze. I try to nod, but his grip is firm and I can't move my head.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Do you remember your safeword?" Of course I remember- we debated about it for an hour just last week.

"Yes," I answer, confidently.

"What is it, pet?" he prods.

"Kitchen."

"Good girl." He drops his hand from my face, moving down my body slowly. He stops at my breasts, slipping his fingers under my dress to feel my nipples. When he's had his feel of pinching and pulling at them, he moves lower, caressing my waist. Instead of lowering his hand to go under my dress, he gathers the fabric in his hand to pull the skirt up higher and higher. I look to Carlisle to see if he's watching, but Edward quickly chastises me.

"No, you look at me," he commands, dropping my skirt so he can cup my face in his hand again. When his eyes are locked with mine, he drops his hand again, bunching up the fabric of my dress. I'm bound to the cross and exposed, and I know they can probably see how excited I am. Edward caresses my inner thighs with the riding crop, and my skin tingles with the soft sensation.

He moves the riding crop to his right hand, holding it along with my skirt, and uses his free hand to press into the cotton panties between my legs. I cry out at the sensation, the relief of his hand pressing against my skin.

"Does it turn you on? Being bound like this?" he asks, rubbing firmly against my clit.

"Yes!" I cry, trying to push my hips against his hand. I move my legs closer together to gain leverage, and he pulls his hand away immediately. I hear the swoosh of air before I feel the riding crop against my thigh.

"Stop moving," Edward commands, and I slide my legs further apart. I'm breathless, focusing on the stinging square of flesh on my leg. He hits me a few more times, and it's not quite painful- just slightly uncomfortable. The sound of the leather slapping my skin and the look of concentration on Edward's face makes the experience unbearably erotic.

He drags the crop up my leg slowly, pressing it between my legs. He rubs it back and forth and I feel it tickling the nerves from my clit to my entrance. I don't know how much more of this I can take- I just want him, now.

"Please!" I beg, and Edward looks into my eyes. His are darker than usual, burning with lust, and I know he needs me too. He looks down, studying my position, and furrows his brow like he's trying to solve a puzzle. Finally he looks over his shoulder, to Carlisle, who is standing a few feet away. He's rubbing the bulge in his pants brazenly, not caring if Edward sees, let alone me.

"You can take her like this," he advises, nodding his head towards me, "it's easiest if you pick up her legs. Or you can turn her around and take her from behind. If you want to use the bench, you can do that too." Edward looks at me, opening his mouth as though he's going to ask a question.

"Don't ask her, Edward. She's yours to use, yours to care for. Tell her what you want and make her do it. It's what she needs," Carlisle explains, gently. Edward nods, looking around the room as though he's making a plan. Eventually his eyes return to me, and he gives me a small smile before dropping the riding crop and lifting his hands to release my cuffs. I rub my wrists as I pull them down, and Edward places a soft kiss over each of my pulse points.

"Move to the bench, Bella," he orders, and I stumble forward on trembling legs. I start to kneel on the low wooden platform, but Edward stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "I'm going to take off your dress first," he whispers. I nod, raising my arms to give him access. He pulls the dress over my head, tossing it aside, and kisses my neck. Suddenly, for the first time tonight, I feel vulnerable. I throw my arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. I'm afraid he'll chastise me again, but he just holds me, stroking my skin, petting my hair until I feel calm again. I step back, positioning myself in front of the bench.

"Bella, I'm going to take off your underwear now. You'll be completely bare, do you understand?" I nod, fighting the urge to look at Carlisle. "I want you. I'm going to fuck you, and he's going to hit you with the crop." He looks into my eyes, searching, giving me the chance to use my safeword. I'm so worked up at this point, though, that I can't fathom saying no.

Edward spins me around roughly, so I'm facing Carlisle, and unclasps my bra. He pushes it down my arms, letting it drop to the floor. Carlisle is watching hungrily, his pants unbuttoned and unzipped now. I can see his hand moving underneath them, rubbing his substantial cock. Edward's fingers rub my hipbones quickly before he slides my panties down my legs, throwing them in the direction of the dress puddled on the floor a few feet away. I'm completely exposed, and it's exhilarating.

Edward holds me close to him, and I feel his arousal pressing against my backside. He plucks at my nipples with one hand, dipping the other between my legs to feel the wetness there. I'm so excited that I can't help but buck against his hand.

"So eager... such a naughty girl," he whispers, pulling his hand away. "Carlisle, will you help me tie her?" Carlisle nods, pulling his shirt off over his head before moving to join us. Edward turns me around, positioning my knees on the platforms of the bench and bending me forward. Carlisle leans over, stroking my cheek, before he binds my wrists together with a length of silky rope.

I hear fabric rustling- it can only be the sound of Edward taking off his clothes. Carlisle is standing in front of me, stroking his cock slowly. He's abandoned all pretense now and pulled it free from his underwear.

"She's lovely," he says, and Edward murmurs in agreement from somewhere behind me. Carlisle moves closer, stroking his cock a little faster, and the moan that slips from my mouth is loud and wanton. I feel a swift slap across my ass, the sting of Edward's palm focusing my mind.

"Mine. You're mine, Bella, don't ever forget." I feel his cock pressing against me, and he bends over so that his whole body is covering mine. I feel his lips sucking on the skin of my neck, so hard it hurts, and I know he's leaving a mark. When he pulls away, standing upright, he spanks me again, much harder than he ever has before. Every sound, every touch is driving me wild. I'm so aware of every texture- the cool wood of the bench, the silk rope around my wrists, the leather cuffs at my ankles.

Edward rubs his cock against me, teasing me before he slides in slowly. I groan, adjusting to the sensation, and wish that I could move back against him. I can't move at all, strapped to the whipping bench, and it forces me to recognize every feeling coursing through my nerve endings. I can't escape the pleasure, can't do anything to work with it or against it. I have to submit.

Edward's rhythm picks up, it's fast and nothing like the gentle lovemaking we used to share. I watch Carlisle pick up the forgotten crop, and then he moves behind me too. I can see nothing but the wall in front of me and my discarded clothing.

I hear the riding crop before I feel it. Carlisle must be wielding it. He covers my ass and my lower back in soft slaps, occasionally drawing out a response by hitting me with some force. I'm moaning and panting, not able to control my reactions any longer.

"Do you like this, pet? Getting fucked in Carlisle's playroom, being watched?" he asks, his fingers digging into my sides. All I can do it groan affirmatively. "Answer me!" he orders.

"Yes, I like it!" I cry, wanting to beg him for more.

"Do you like my cock? Or do you like being whipped with this crop?" he grunts, pulling my hips back to meet him.

"All of it, please! I love it!" I moan, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensations. Edward's cock, stroking me from the inside, and the force of his thrust pushing my clit against the worn edge of the wooden bench. The soft taps and heavier slaps of the riding crop from Carlisle's skilled hands. It's all so much, too much, and I feel my body tensing.

"Don't you come, pet. Don't come yet. Not without my permission," Edward commands, but it's too late. I'm already falling apart, and hearing his low, authoritative voice order me not to come has pushed me over the edge. I swallow a scream, twitching as my body releases.

"Fuck, Bella!" he cries, burying his cock deep inside of me. I feel him twitching, pulsing as he comes inside me, and I feel Carlisle's hand on my face, tilting it towards him. He's so close, his underwear gone, just standing in front of me fisting his cock.

"Watch," he growls, stroking faster, and I feel Edward's soft kisses on the back of my neck. Carlisle strokes two more times before his grip tightens and he comes, his release spurting out in thick streams. He leans forward, resting his hand on the bench next to my shoulder, but doesn't touch me. We're all panting, trying to catch our breath. After a moment, Carlisle collects himself, standing again. He walks past me, pausing behind me to confer with Edward.

"Take your time. Check her wrists and her ankles. Make sure she's okay. I'll be downstairs," he murmurs, running his fingers down my spine once before padding to the door. I hear it open and shut, and as soon as it does, Edward is untying me. He fumbles with the straps on my ankles before pulling them free, and walks around in front of me to untie my wrists. He pulls me up so I can stand, but my knees are too weak. Edward scoops me up, carrying me to the bed and sitting down with me in his lap.

"You did so well, baby, so well," he whispers, covering my face with kisses. "Was that okay?" he asks, sounding worried. I reward him with a lazy smile, snuggling closer to him.

"So good, Edward. I loved it. You were amazing," I tell him, knowing that he needs some comfort too. We sit for a while, stroking each other softly, silent and loving.

"Some tour, huh?" I ask, breaking the silence, and Edward chuckles.

"Mmmhmm. We might have to come back... I think I owe you a punishment for coming without my permission," he teases, but my heart skips a beat.

"I'd like that," I whisper, kissing his cheek affectionately.

"Ready to go, baby?" he whispers, and I nod, moving to gather my things. We get dressed and head downstairs, hand in hand, to thank our host.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
_BPOV_

 

"Hi, Sweetie," Edward says, kissing my cheek. "This was on the porch," he tells me, dropping a heavy box on the dining room table and sliding it towards me. I feel my cheeks get warmer--I wasn't expecting it to come for a few days and I haven't told Edward what I ordered online. 

"Thanks," I tell him, tucking my pile of graded essays into my briefcase. My instinct is to take the box to the bedroom and open it by myself, or wait until tomorrow when Edward is at work again. I don't know how he'll react to the things I bought. I push my fears aside, reminding myself that we promised to be more open with each other about all things sexual. Besides, he might like these things...

"What'd you get?" he asks, rifling through the cabinets. "Bells, where'd you put my Oreos?" 

"They're behind the granola bars and the dried fruit and the other, healthier snacks," I remind him. He just rolls his eyes at me before he rearranges the boxes and pulls out the Oreos. "I umm... I ordered some stuff from that website we were looking at this weekend." I watch for his reaction, peeling at the tape on the edge of the box while he chews on a cookie. We looked at the website together, before our night in Carlisle's playroom. I looked at it again Sunday night while Edward was on call, and I ordered a few things that looked interesting.

Edward swallows, putting the cookies back in the cabinet, and opens a drawer in the kitchen. I can't see what he takes out until he walks around the island, sits down in a chair next to mine, and hands me a pair of scissors. He's silent while I cut into the heavy mailing tape on the sides and down the center of the box. When I put the scissors down, Edward pulls the box to his side of the table, in front of him.

"Let's see what we have here..." he says, lifting open the cardboard flaps. My heart speeds up at the subtle change in his demeanor. His shoulders are straighter, his voice just a little louder and deeper. He pulls out two sets of cuffs, one for my wrists and one for my ankles. "I thought you liked the black ones?" he asks, running his fingers over the smooth brown leather.

"Those were on sale," I reply with a shrug. He turns his face away for a second, and I catch a glimpse of a smile before he turns back to me, serious.

"Nice. These are very nice, Bella. What else..." he lifts a short, black riding crop- just like the he used on me at Carlisle's- from the box. He removes the packaging before he sets in on the table in front of me. "You liked this, huh?" he asks, brushing his fingers against my cheek before he pushes my hair back behind my ear. 

"Yes. I thought... I thought you liked it too?" I answer, not sure if he approves.

"Oh, I liked it very much, Bella. I think we'll get a lot of use out of this." He runs his fingers down the length of the crop, and his words make me squirm in anticipation. He pulls out a standard black blindfold, the kind that looks like a sleep mask. 

"Your tie kept slipping off," I offer. He blindfolded me with his necktie when he got home from work last Thursday, but it sort of ruined the experience when we had to keep adjusting it. Edward nods, his eyes fixed on the last object in the box.

"Bella, this is..." he mumbles, slipping out of his Dominant persona and shaking his head. "This looks pretty, uh, hardcore." He lifts the heavy leather flogger, freeing the strands and running his fingers through them.

"I just liked the way it looked... the pictures... I'm sorry," I tell him, looking down at the table in front of me, chagrined.

"Hey," he says, cupping my chin firmly and lifting it. "It's something we can work up to, okay?" I nod my head, leaning into his hand and he slides it up across my cheek and around the back of my head. He pulls me close to him, kissing me softly. He still struggles with being rough when we play, but I hope having some toys around will help with that. I’m far from complaining, though; this is already far beyond what I ever thought I'd experience.

"Thanks, Edward," I whisper, wrapping an arm around his neck and hugging him. He pulls away, kissing my cheek once, and leans back into his chair, staring at me. I shiver when he issues his command. 

"Upstairs. I want you naked and on your knees in front of the bed. Five minutes." I reach for the items laid out on the table, thinking I'll take them upstairs with me, but he grabs my wrist to stop me. "I'll decide what we're going to play with, Bella. Go."

 

_EPOV_

"Here's 1402, Kelly," I tell the nurse at the circulation desk as I hand off my last chart. "Thanks again, I appreciate the help with Mrs. Benson today." She grins, but turns back to her work when Carlisle approaches. 

"Dr. Cullen," I nod, greeting him in our customary manner. The first time I saw him after that night, I wasn't sure if I should acknowledge our... shared experience in any way. Do you call a man by his first name after he's watched you fuck your wife? Unsure, I took my cues from him, and he acted as if nothing were different.

"Evening, Dr. Masen. Headed home?" he asks, glancing at me before lowering his eyes to the chart he's scribbling on. He snaps it closed and hands it to Kelly. 

"Nah, Bella's out with her girlfriends tonight so I'm gonna stop over at Mac's to get some dinner and watch the game." He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it right away like he's changed his mind. I wonder if he was about to invite himself along... Would it be weird for me to invite him? Maybe not. Two guys watching the game, that's not weird.

"Do you want to join me?" I blurt out. "They have two dollar drafts on Fridays," I add, feeling stupid immediately after the words come out of my mouth. I've been to the man's half-million dollar home; a cheap beer is definitely not on his list of priorities.

"Sounds great. I'll drive." He turns on his heel and strides to the elevator, and I catch Kelly staring at me with her mouth open in surprise. I shrug my shoulders, scurrying to catch up with Carlisle. 

It would make more sense for us to drive separately--we'll have to double back to the hospital to pick up my car--but Carlisle isn't someone to be argued with.

We don't talk at all in the elevator, or in Carlisle's sleek sedan. He surprises me by ordering a burger and a Budweiser at Mac's; I fully expected him to be a beer snob. We sit at a table in the corner, away from the rowdy crowd at the bar, watching the Mariners game in mostly comfortable silence. He comments on the pitcher's ERA and I tell him about the seats we had for the last home game. 

Around beer number three, during the seventh-inning stretch, Carlisle asks, "So, how have things been with Bella?" I could pretend that it's just a polite inquiry, a common exchange among friends, but I know what he's really asking.

"Good, uh, great. It's great," I stammer. He nods his head, taking a long pull from his beer.

"I really enjoyed playing with the two of you. You're welcome to come back anytime," he offers, casually. I nod my head in thanks, not sure how to respond. "You know, Edward, I've been doing this for a long time, so if you have any questions you can just ask." I'm still nodding, silent, and I peel at the label of my beer bottle. 

"How long?" I ask, after a slightly awkward silence.

"About fifteen years," he answers, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I'm thirty-seven, started when I was around twenty-two. I was in New York at the time, finishing my undergrad, and I started dating a girl named Laura. She was..." he shakes his head, chuckling at the memory. "She was a firecracker. Amazing with a whip."

"So wait, was she, umm, dominant?" I ask, leaning forward. "How did that work?"

"Oh, she was definitely dominant. Not a submissive bone in that girl's body. It was fun for a little while. I was terrible at submitting though, always trying to get control of the situation. At first, she thought I was just acting feisty to get attention, but it became clear that we were cut from the same cloth." He catches our waitress glancing our way, and signals our need for another round by raising two fingers. "She was kind of my mentor after that. Took me to some clubs, introduced me to people, taught me a lot about the emotional aspects of what we do." He raises his head slightly, making eye contact when he says "we."

"What do you mean? What emotional aspects?" I ask. I thought this was all pretty straightforward- spank or be spanked. He smiles politely at the waitress, accepting a fresh beer and asking for the check, and waits until she walks away before answering.

"It's easy enough to learn how to use a riding crop or a flogger," he says, lowering his voice. "To truly meet the needs of your submissive, though, you have to understand what motivates her and why. Is it just the pain? Is it the idea of being controlled, helpless? The more you find out about that, the better the experience is for both of you."

He's making sense, but I don't know how to start that conversation with Bella. "Bella's pretty shy. She's having a hard time talking about all this. Asking for what she wants, you know?" He nods, gesturing for me to continue. "Like, we talked about taking things slowly, but she ordered a bunch of stuff online without talking to me about it first. That part doesn't really bother me, but she bought this heavy-duty leather flogger that looks like a medieval torture device."

Carlisle chuckles, but quickly stifles his laughter. "I don't mean to laugh, Edward. I think that's the point though, right? For it to look frightening?" I shrug my shoulders. "I get what you're saying, and I know you're hesitant to hurt her, but it really is all about technique. I could use that leather flogger and make it feel like I'm tickling you." He stops talking abruptly when the waitress approaches our table.

"Maybe I need lessons," I joke, draining the last of my beer as Carlisle hands a few twenties to our waitress. I reach for my wallet but Carlisle shakes his head no. "You sure? Thanks, man." As we walk out, I realize we completely missed the last two innings of the game. 

"Lessons..." Carlisle says thoughtfully after we're seated in his BMW. He starts the car, turning slowly out of the parking lot, and he keeps his eyes strictly on the road. "Yes, I think lessons would be good for both of you. I think you have a lot of potential as a Dominant, Edward." I open my mouth to tell him I was just kidding about lessons, but he continues speaking before I can jump in.

"You two should come over for dinner tomorrow. Bring that flogger, if you want. We don't have to use it on Bella, but you can compare it to some of mine." I bite my lip, a nervous habit of Bella's that's rubbing off on me. This whole situation is pretty fucked up, but I desperately want to make Bella happy. I decide it's worth putting aside my pride and my embarrassment to learn from someone experienced. 

"Umm, yeah. That sounds good. What time?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt as we reach my Volvo.

"Seven. Oh, and choose something for her to wear, something outside her comfort zone," he adds. "It doesn't have to be slutty, just something... maybe a little sexier than what she's used to." I nod, already picturing exactly what I'll ask her to wear. Tell her to wear.

"Thanks, Carlisle. I'll see you tomorrow." I climb out of his car, and he speeds off immediately. I stand next to my Volvo for a minute, breathing in the fresh air and leaning against the door as I wonder what I've gotten myself into.

 

_BPOV_

"Mmm, good morning, baby," Edward says, pulling me to his chest and tucking my head under his chin. I burrow closer, kissing his chest, and smile when he throws his leg over mine. One of the million reasons I love Edward: he hugs with his whole body.

"Hi," I whisper, my voice scratchy from sleep. 

"What time did you get in last night? I didn't hear you at all," he says. His hands are stroking my hair, my back, occasionally brushing against my ass. 

"Mmmm... late. Alice kept whining, 'One more dance, Bella!' In reality it was about twenty-seven more dances." He rests his big, warm hand on my lower back. I'm glad I crawled into bed naked with him when I got home. "What did you do last night? He chuckles, his hand sliding down over my ass and resting on my thigh.

"I went to Mac's to watch the game with Carlisle." My heart stutters at the mention of Carlisle's name. "He invited us to come over for dinner tonight." I roll backwards, onto my side, so I can see Edward's face. 

"Dinner, huh?" I ask, raising one eyebrow. He nods, clasping my fingers with his and bringing my hand up to his face. He kisses my wrist, my thumb, each of my fingers. 

"Dinner, and... maybe he'll show me a few things," he admits. "Show us," he clarifies. I nod slowly, my breath catching as I remember the feeling of being bound in Carlisle's playroom, of Carlisle and Edward working together to bring me the most intense pleasure I'd ever known. Edward's eyes spark when he realizes how aroused I am.

"Oh, Bella... you like that idea." He's still holding my hand, and he rolls onto his side, facing me, and keeps rolling until I'm on my back and he's on top of me. I feel all of his weight against me. He pulls my hand up over my head, trapping it there against the pillow. His free hand trails down my body, tickling my side all the way down until he lingers at my hip. "I know exactly what you're thinking about now, Bella. Being tied up in that playroom, my hands on you, spanking you. Tell me I'm right, Bella." His hand slips between my legs, and I feel him slip two fingers inside me, just barely.

"You're right," I moan, pushing down against his hand. I had questions, I think--about how he went from watching the game to garnering an invitation to Carlisle's house for "dinner"--but my mind empties as his hand rubs magically against me.

"I know I'm right." He pulls his fingers out, sliding them up further to press against my clit. He doesn't move them, just presses them there. I wiggle against him, desperate for friction, but his body atop mine makes it difficult to move the way I want to. "Shhh, Bella. Be patient." 

He lifts his head, pressing a firm kiss against my lips, and rolls off me. He climbs out of bed, stretching, and I whine in frustration. Edward is on me in a second, kneeling on the bed, hovering over me and grasping my chin in his hand. 

"If you can't be patient, pet, you won't get to come at all. Do you understand?" he says, his eyes dark.

"Yes," I whisper, thrilled at his easy transition from morning snuggler to badass Dominant. 

"Yes, what?" he asks, frowning at me. 

"Yes, Sir," I correct myself. Edward lets go of my chin, crawling back off the bed, and heads toward the master bathroom. I lie back in bed, frustrated and wanting.

He teases me relentlessly all morning, kissing my neck, stroking my back, rubbing up against me. I escape for a while in the afternoon and head to my favorite salon to get a pedicure. I relax in the massage chair while my feet are pampered, trying to sort out my feelings about tonight. I'm definitely excited, but I can't stop wondering what Edward and Carlisle talked about last night; what they plan to do to me. I wonder if Carlisle's going to want to participate more--Edward and I haven't talked about that yet. 

I drive home in the cheap rubber flip-flops from the salon, tapping my fingers nervously on the steering wheel. I liked it when Carlisle hit me with the crop last time, and I really got off on him watching us, but I don't know if I want to have sex with him. I should talk to Edward about this, but what if... what if he's upset that I'm even considering it? Maybe I should let him take the lead, and rely on my safeword if it's too much.

The house is quiet when I get in at half-past five. I check my toes to make sure they're dry before padding upstairs to look for Edward. He's sitting on the bed in just his boxers, watching baseball on TV. 

"Hey," I greet him, leaning over for a kiss. His fingers slither up into my hair, and I hear the click of the television turning off as he pulls me closer for a longer kiss. "Mmmm. That's a nice way to say hello," I tell him, giggling. Edward smirks, grabbing my backside playfully.

"You'd better start getting ready, babe. We need to leave in about an hour so we have time to stop and pick up a bottle of wine to take to Carlisle's," he says, leaning back against the headboard. He's looking me up and down, clearly thinking dirty thoughts, and I feel myself start to flush already. 

"I was just going to wear these jeans with my blue sweater, it shouldn't take me long to get ready..." I offer, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. Maybe a little pre-game session with Edward will help my nerves. He chuckles, shaking his head. 

"No, you're wearing that dress with the sparkly things, and those shoes," he says, nodding towards my dresser. A pair of strappy black stilettos I rarely wear is sitting on top of my dresser next to a sheer, black lingerie set I only wear occasionally for Edward. I bite my lip, knowing exactly which dress he's talking about. I wear it all the time over jeans or leggings, because it's far too short to wear on its own-- a black halter dress with sequins around the bust. "Just that, Bella, and the underwear I picked for you. No tights." I open my mouth to object, but his stern expression stops me from speaking up.

"Yes, Sir," I tell him, sinking into my submissive mindset. I gather the clothes he set out for me, heading into the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready.

"Oh, and Bella?" he adds, stopping me in my tracks. 

"Yes, Sir?" I turn to face him.

"I want your hair up. All of it, off your face, off your neck." I nod in response, biting my lip. He knows I hide behind my hair when I'm nervous, and he's stripping all of my defenses. 

I take the entire hour to get ready, shaving my legs, buffing and exfoliating so my skin will be soft and smooth. I pull my hair up in a twist, tucking in all the extra strands as best as I can. I think about using bobby pins to make it perfect, but I'd much rather keep it simple in case Edward decides he wants to take it down later.

I emerge from the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, and Edward is waiting for me. He's standing in front of the closet, looking at his tie rack with a frown. His eyes widen when he sees me, and he moves quickly across the room. 

"You look... you look so sexy, Bella," he breathes, kissing my exposed neck. I shiver in his arms, move closer, and breathe in his fresh, clean scent. 

"Thank you, Sir," I tell him. He remembers our roles tonight and pulls back just a bit, squaring his shoulders. He walks back to the closet, picking up a few ties before discarding them. He looks at me, questioning, and I shake my head no. He's wearing dark grey trousers and a white button-down shirt with pinstripes; untucked, the look is sexy and casual. I think a tie will make it too formal. He smiles, closing the door to the closet and approaching me again. 

"Are you ready, Bella?" he asks, looking deeply into my eyes. He's asking if I'm ready to go, yes, but he's also asking if I'm ready to let him take charge in a new way. I have no idea what he's planning, but I trust Edward to make it good for both of us. I reach for his hand and grip it tightly.

"Yes, Sir."

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_BPOV_

"Welcome," Carlisle says, opening the door widely. I'm standing on the porch, clinging to Edward's hand with both of mine and swaying perilously on my high heels. Edward hands Carlisle the bottle of white wine he purchased, and Carlisle steps back to allow us to enter. Edward shakes off my death grip, moving to shake Carlisle's hand. I follow him over the threshold and pause to allow Carlisle to kiss my cheek.

"This will be perfect," Carlisle announces, reading the label on the bottle of wine as he leads us into his kitchen. "I made salmon and some zucchini, I hope that's okay for everyone?" I nod, leaning into Edward's side. In the car I was bouncing in my seat, excited to play again, but I feel intimidated walking back into this big house.

"Sounds delicious," Edward says, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing me gently. Carlisle opens a drawer, pulls out a corkscrew and then hands it and the bottle of wine to Edward. He steps forward to uncork the bottle, and I follow him automatically, hovering at his side. I feel exposed in this tiny dress; I would normally wear it with a cardigan and leggings. I feel almost naked wearing it alone, which only makes me more nervous.

Carlisle turns to the stove and lifts the lid on a saucepan, stirring it quickly. He dips his head down to breathe in the aroma, and he beckons me to come over to him. "Bella, come taste this sauce for me."

I cross from the island to the kitchen counter, teetering in my scary shoes, and I meet Carlisle next to the stove. I feel the warm air radiating from the oven and I'm sure it only contributes further to the near permanent blush on my cheeks. He dips a silver spoon into the saucepan, gathering some of the honey-colored sauce, and brings it to his lips. He blows across the spoon to cool the liquid.

When I reach for the spoon to take it from him, Carlisle smirks and shakes his head. He steps closer, holding the spoon out towards me, and I bend my head forward slightly. He pulls the spoon back, frowning, and I stand up straight. Carlisle brings the spoon to my mouth and I part my lips, letting him slide the spoon between them. The sauce is tangy and sweet; I close my eyes and hum in pleasure.

"Good?" he asks, chuckling, and I nod my head.

"Delicious." The POP of the cork diverts my attention, and I turn to find Edward holding the wine bottle tightly in one hand, the corkscrew in the other. He's watching us intently, but quickly turns his attention to removing the cork from the corkscrew.

"So, Edward, what did you think of the paper O'Doyle published on biomarkers for cardiac events?" Carlisle asks, casually changing the subject. Edward answers enthusiastically, and I busy myself pouring the wine into glasses that Carlisle sets out on the counter. They discuss their colleague's article as Carlisle removes the salmon from the oven and plates it artfully next to the vegetables. He pours the sauce over the fish, winking at me when he catches me licking my lips.

Fortunately, the dinner conversation switches to current events and I'm able to contribute my own thoughts. Edward and Carlisle share a laugh about one of their colleagues, and Edward takes the time to relay the whole story so I don't feel left out. After a glass and a half of wine and some relaxing conversation, I feel much more at ease in Carlisle's house.

The salmon is delectable; Carlisle is obviously a practiced chef, and I find myself dragging the last bite of fish around my plate to soak up the sauce. We chat for a while when dinner is over, and my mind wanders from the conversation at hand. I start to wonder about Carlisle, all alone in this big house--has he ever had a wife? A girlfriend who lived with him? When was the last time he used his playroom before we visited last week?

"Bella?" Carlisle asks, and the sound of my name snaps me out of my reverie. "Are you all finished?"

"Yes, thank you. It was delicious," I offer.

"You're welcome, Bella. Now Edward and I are going to talk for a few minutes, so I'd like you to go upstairs and get comfortable." My heart starts to pound. I can feel my face get hot as he speaks. "Use the restroom if you'd like, then wait for us in the playroom. There's a pillow on the floor, I want you to remove your dress and kneel on the pillow." He drains the last of his wine, stands up, and begins to gather dishes from the table without another word.

I push my chair back from the table slowly, remove my napkin from my lap, and place it on the empty plate in front of me. I stand, as gracefully as I can in these high heels, and turn towards the stairs. I hesitate only once, turning back to look at Edward for some reassurance. I catch him checking out my ass, a wicked smile on his face, and I feel a rush of adrenaline as I turn and head up the stairs.

 

_EPOV_

I listen to Bella's footsteps as she hurries up the stairs, and I hear the sound of a door closing softly in the distance. I thought she'd protest when Carlisle asked her to go upstairs by herself, but she followed his instruction without question.

"Edward, can you grab those wine glasses?" he calls out, stacking the dirty dishes in the sink. I grab our empty glasses and deliver them to Carlisle, watching as he rinses the dishes quickly.

"Did you bring the flogger?" he asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel. I wince, realizing that I forgot to bring any of our new toys.

"Uhh, no, I kind of forgot. Sorry," I offer, embarrassed. Carlisle shrugs, patting me on the back as he walks past me into his living room.

"No problem, Edward. I set out a few things to show you; we can just work with those." I follow him into the living room and I'm glad Bella and I bypassed it on the way in. Instead of knick-knacks and photography books, Carlisle has a display of whips laid out on his coffee table. He gets down to business quickly, giving me an overview of the benefits and limitations of each one.

"So the one Bella bought--is it similar to this?" he asks, handing me a heavy, suede flogger with long tendrils.

"Yeah, it was... it was about this long, I guess, but it was made of leather, not suede." Carlisle nods, grabbing another model from the coffee table.

"This one might work better for you to start out with. Shorter strands are easier to control. Give that one a swing, like this," he says, demonstrating with the shorter whip.

I look around, not sure what I'm supposed to hit. He gestures to the empty space in front of him, and I swing the whip in front of me. I feel awkward, striking at nothing, but Carlisle nods encouragingly. I try it again, matching the way he snaps his wrist.

"Good, now switch with me," he says, offering the flogger he was using. I sense the difference immediately: this smaller version feels lighter in my hand, and I feel more comfortable wielding it as I swing it through the air. Carlisle steps behind me, gripping my upper arm and holding it locked at my side. He nods and I swing again, relying on my forearm and my wrist, and he claps my back once in acknowledgement. I feel an odd sense of pride at his approval.

"I think I've got it," I tell him, smirking as I fling the whip again and again.

"Great, time for step two. Take your shirt off." My arm drops to my side and I turn to face him, shocked by his request.

"What? Why?"

"You need to know how it feels. It won't hurt much, I promise." I hesitate, but he convinces me quickly. "She's up there waiting for you, and I'm not letting you into my playroom until I'm comfortable with you using this."

I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it on the couch. I turn my back to him, ball my hands into fists and stare straight ahead.

"Do it," I tell him. I hear him moving closer and I tense, waiting for the sting. When it comes, it's not nearly as bad as I expected. The blow is solid, thumping against my lower back, but the pain fades quickly. I feel my skin warm as he strikes a few more times.

"You want to start gently, like this, and watch her reactions. That's the key, Edward--are you listening?" I nod my head in response. "Good. So watch her, and listen--is she whimpering? Crying? It's not a bad thing if she cries, and it doesn't mean you should stop, but you can't lose focus on her reaction. Sometimes they need to cry, but real pain sounds very different from the emotional release of a submissive. Tell me, has she ever used her safeword with you?"

"No, uh, we haven't done anything too... intense," I answer. He hits me again, a little harder, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I don't see what appeals to Bella about this--it doesn't feel good to me at all.

"Okay, just make sure she remembers that she can use it. Remind her before you begin. And if you hear that safeword, stop immediately."

"Of course!" I feel warm leather being pressed into my hand, and I realize he's handing me the flogger. I turn around, ready to follow him upstairs, but I find Carlisle removing his own shirt.

"Your turn," he says, turning his back to me. He stretches his arms out over his head before bringing them to rest loosely at his sides. I hesitate again, wondering why he's letting me do this. "You can practice on me, Masen, or you can practice on her. Up to you," he tells me, facing away from me the entire time.

I swing the falls in the air again, remembering the feel of this weapon in my hand. I take a slow, calming breath before I raise my hand, aiming for Carlisle's left shoulder, and strike. "How was that?" I ask, immediately.

"Good, just right. Try it a few more times," he offers. The second swing is too hard, he hisses in pain immediately and reminds me to focus on smaller arm movements. He cuts me off after six and turns to the mirror angled above the fireplace. He points to the red area on the small of his back where I'd struck him too hard.

"See here? You should avoid that. You're going for pink, like this, or just barely red," he gestures to the marks on his back. I nod, studying intently. "You ready to do this? She's probably getting antsy up there."

"Yeah... I think I am," I tell him, switching the flogger from one hand to the other.

"Confidence, Edward. Confidence is key. You have to go in there with a plan, make sure she knows you're in control the entire time. What are you planning to do? You don't have to use this, if you don't want to," he points to the flogger in my hand as he speaks.

"No, I want to. I'd feel better trying it out while we're here with you," I admit. "I think I want to tie her to the cross, she really liked that last time. Tease her a little bit, I guess, and then use this?" He nods in agreement.

"You don't want to leave her bound there for too long, it can be painful if she's not used to it. The wrong kind of pain," he adds, answering my unspoken question.

"Got it." I follow him to the stairs, thinking about Bella bound to the cross upstairs, squirming and whimpering. Thinking about her soft, round ass turning red. Thinking about bending her over on that bench again, or maybe letting her ride me on the big bed in the playroom. Fuck, Carlisle and I didn't talk about this part. I reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him from ascending.

"Listen, Carlisle, Bella and I still haven't really discussed how she feels about your... participation in all this. I know she gets off on being watched, and touching her the way you did last week was okay with both of us, but I don't want it to go any further than that." He opens his mouth to respond but I shut him down. "I'm not saying it isn't a possibility in the future, but not tonight."

"Understood," he says, smiling. "Jesus, Edward, that's the first time you've sounded like a Dominant all night. Go get your girl," he says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to lead the way.

 

BPOV

I use the restroom quickly, thankful I didn't drink more wine with dinner, and wash my hands in the marble sink. I moisten a washcloth with cold water and dab at my face, willing the blush to go away. I sigh, examining myself in the mirror--my skin is flushed and my hair is starting to fall out of its twist. I fix it, tightening the clip almost painfully to make sure it stays up. I turn off the light and move slowly down the dark hallway towards the soft light spilling out of the playroom door.

Slipping inside, I circle the room slowly, running my fingers across the dark wood of the cross and the whipping bench. Being in here, alone, fills my mind with images of the last time I was in this room; Edward's soft touch, Carlisle's intense gaze, the soft slapping sound of the riding crop as it struck my skin. The only thing different in today's setup is the pillow lying on the floor next to the bed. I notice that it's warm in here, definitely a few degrees warmer than the rest of the house, and I'm grateful for Carlisle's attention to detail.

I take a deep breath and look up at the empty doorway, wondering if I should close it before I undress. There's no point, really, because Edward and Carlisle will both see me the second they walk in. I start to slip off my shoes, but I think back to Carlisle's direction: "I want you to remove your dress and kneel on the pillow." He didn’t say anything about my shoes.

I hesitate, shuffling back and forth in front of the pillow, before I decide to keep the shoes. I reach behind my neck, untying the strips of fabric holding up my dress. I push it down over my hips and it falls to the floor. Carlisle didn't specify what to do with the dress, but it feels wrong to leave it lying there. I fold it neatly and set it on top of the chest of drawers in the corner. I move back to the side of the bed, and kneel carefully on the pillow.

The silence is unnerving; I can hear every beat of my heart, every breath that escapes my lungs. I hear Carlisle and Edward talking downstairs, and I strain to listen to their conversation. I can't make anything out, so I try to block out the sound. I focus on taking deep, calming breaths. I scrape my fingernails lightly against my thighs, running them up and down in soothing patterns. I hear heavy footsteps in the hallway, and I rest my hands at my sides, waiting for them to appear.

They're both shirtless, which strikes me as odd. Edward walks to my side, carrying a small whip in his hand. I think about the larger one we have at home, and I wonder if he wanted to use one of Carlisle's first before he tried the one I bought. He did say we'd have to work up to it...

Carlisle walks to my side while Edward hovers in the threshold. "You did exactly as I asked, Bella. Such a good girl," he says, petting my hair gently. I lean into his hand, thrilled at his praise. Edward steps forward, stopping in front of me and bending at the waist to look into my eyes.

"I love you, baby," he whispers, barely audible. He brushes his lips against mine just once before standing up. His posture changes slightly, and my spine tingles at the sight of him towering over me. "Stand up," he commands, his voice echoing in the tiny room.

I rise, rather awkwardly since I'm still wearing the heels, and music starts to flood the room, just like last time. Edward's hand presses against the small of my back, propelling me forward, and I let him move me. We walk forward, towards the cross, and I start to tremble in anticipation as we get closer. I stumble, falling forward, and Edward catches me and holds me until I right myself.

"Take those shoes off, pet," he whispers. I kick them off, wiggling my toes, and Edward gently pushes me to the wall. I lean against it, my chest flush against the cross, and take a slow, deep breath. Edward unclasps my bra and slides the straps down my shoulders before pulling it away. He hooks his fingers into my panties, slips them over my hips and pulls them down to the floor. He lifts my left arm, brings it to the top of the cross, and swiftly buckles the restraint around it. He slips his finger between my skin and the leather, just like Carlisle taught him. I wiggle my wrist without being asked.

His fingers trail down my arm, across my back, and down to my right hand. He squeezes it once before lifting it and restraining it to match the left side. I feel him drop to his knees behind me, and his hands push my legs apart until they're spaced correctly. He binds my ankles, checking the restraints carefully. As he rises, he presses a few gentle kisses to my calves, the backs of my knees, and my thighs.

"Bella, love, what is your safeword?" Edward asks, kissing the back of my neck.

"Kitchen," I respond, my voice wavering.

"Good," he replies, leaning his body into mine. I feel his bare chest pressed against my back, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against my thighs, his warm breath on my neck. I relax under the pressure of Edward's body, wishing I could return his affection by leaning back against him. That thought makes me tense up, and I suddenly realize how completely defenseless I am here, bound and naked.

"You look perfect, you're doing so well," he whispers, and I feel my muscles start to relax. I can't hug him, kiss him, press my body against his, but I can show him how much I love him. How much I love this. I will my body to calm and feel the trembling subside, as I focus again on calm, even breaths. Edward's hands are massaging me, travelling up and down my back, my sides, my thighs. He wraps his arms around me, cups my breasts, and squeezes gently. One hand trails down my stomach, between my legs, and I whimper when he slides two fingers through the wetness there.

He teases me, pressing his fingers against my clit softly, not giving me enough pressure to relieve the ache I've felt all day. I try to move my hips against him, but my range of motion is so limited that I can't move the way I need to. I whimper in frustration and Edward pulls his hand away immediately.

"Eager, are we?" he growls, pulling away. The cold air rushes over my back and I shiver in anticipation. I see Carlisle approach from my peripheral vision, and I feel his hands on my shoulder blades. He rubs his thumbs against them, pressing gently, before sliding his hands over my lower back and down to my ass.

"Mind if I warm her up a little?" he asks. It's quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he and Edward are having a silent conversation... or if Edward's waiting for me to safeword. I expect to hear Edward answer verbally, so I'm surprised when I feel a sharp slap on my backside.

I would know it was Carlisle spanking me even if he hadn't said anything; his hands are larger than Edward's, and he squeezes my flesh after every slap--something Edward's never done. He makes me wait between every slap, letting the anticipation build. His hand cracks down on my ass and I cry out, surprised at the heavier movement, but I regain my composure.

"I think she's ready for more, Edward," he says, rubbing the small of my back before stepping away. I hear Edward take a deep breath, and then I feel something new--something soft--hitting my back, tickling my skin. I close my eyes, picturing Edward wielding the flogger he was carrying earlier. He hits me again, using more force, and I feel the sting of the falls against my shoulder.

He carries on like this, brushing the weapon against my skin, barely touching me. Maybe I need to tell him that it doesn't hurt--tell him that I need more. Just as I open my mouth to say something, I feel a firm strike against my ass. Instead of words, a loud cry passes through my lips. Edward pauses, then hits me again, just as hard, on the other cheek.

The pain is sharp, lingering, and exactly what I wanted. I moan in pleasure, wanting so badly for Edward to know how much I like this. I only wish I could watch him work me over; shirtless, whipping me, wanting me. I can hear Carlisle coaching him, but the words melt together. The only sound I want to hear is the thwack of suede against my skin. I think he's moved to the side, because he's hitting me from a different angle now. It's all so good, so, so good, and then suddenly I feel a sharp, scary pain on my left side.

I hear myself howl in pain before I fully register what happened, and feel two sets of hands on my body at once. "Kitchen, ow, fuck!" I yell.

"Shhh, baby, I know. I'm sorry," Edward says, rubbing my side lightly. It's not so bad, after the initial shock, but that was so much more intense than any of the other hits.

"She's fine, Edward. Look, she's fine. Bella, are you okay?" Carlisle asks, stroking my hair gently to soothe me.

"Yeah... yes, Sir. It just... it just surprised me, how much that one hurt," I answer, honestly.

"It's okay, Edward, trust me. You just have to be careful if you're going to whip her from that angle--when the falls wrap around the body it can be too painful, you can’t control it," Carlisle explains.

I feel Edward's hands all over me, rubbing my back, my ass, my side. He kisses my neck, and I know he's apologizing without words. I wish I could wrap my arms around him, reassure him, tell him that it's not so bad. I really wish I hadn't used the safeword; it was only the shock of the initial pain that caused me to say it.

"I want to keep going," I whisper, and I feel Edward shaking his head against my neck. "Please, Edward, I was more surprised than hurt. I'm fine, really, and... I need more. Please, do it for me, Edward, please," I beg, my voice sounding desperate even to my own ears.

"I don't want to hurt you..." he says, hesitating.

"Touch me. Edward, feel how wet I am," I offer, and he slips his fingers into me from behind. He gasps when he feels the moisture between my legs, making me ready for him. "I love it, Edward. I want more."

"You'll tell me if it hurts too much?" he whispers, and I nod enthusiastically. "You're sure?" he asks, and I nod so hard that I thump my head against the wall. Carlisle chuckles quietly, and Edward presses a final kiss to my shoulder before he steps back.

He's tentative again, returning to his original position and hitting me softly. He warms up a little faster this time, and I try to let go of my worry and lose myself in the sensations. All I can feel is the caress of the suede strands against my back, my thighs, my ass.

It doesn't last nearly as long this time--only a few more strikes before I hear the heavy thud of the flogger falling to the floor. Edward presses his body against mine, pushing me against the cross, and I feel his cock pressing against my ass.

"You did so well, pet," he says, thrusting against me. His hands work furiously, unbuckling the wrist restraints. I feel Carlisle at my ankles, freeing them as well. "You look so beautiful, Bella. Your skin... just beautiful..." he mumbles, kissing my neck. He pulls me away from the wall, one arm wrapped around my waist, and walks me forward to the bed.

He bends me forward and I fall onto my hands, my feet flat on the floor and my ass sticking out. I wonder if he's going to spank me again--and how that would feel on my warm, reddened flesh-- but I immediately hear the rustling of fabric as Edward sheds the rest of his clothes. He presses his hips against mine and slides into me easily, groaning in satisfaction when he's fully seated inside me.

I feel the bed dip as Carlisle climbs onto it, and I turn my head to the side so I can see him. He shows me a riding crop, the same one that he used last time.

"Do you want this, Bella?" he asks, and I nod my head. "Say it."

"Yes, Sir," I whine, Edward's thrusts coming harder now, driving me closer to my release.

Carlisle moves closer, whispering into my ear. "Tell me that you want me to whip you while Edward fucks you."

"I want.. Oh! I want you to whip me... while Edward fucks me..." I choke out, gasping when Edward fills me, pressing my hips into the bed forcefully.

Carlisle disappears from my view, and I feel the soft slaps of the riding crop on my skin. He hits my arms first, the sides of my legs, my hips. When he moves to the sore, tender flesh of my back, the sensations are so intense that I can't keep my eyes open. It feels so good--the pain, the pleasure, Edward and Carlisle working together.

"Are you going to come like this, Bella?" Carlisle asks. "Are you going to come on his cock? Tell me."

"Yes!" I cry, lifting my head, trying to twist around because I want to see him, or Edward, or both of them. Carlisle kneels on the bed again, pushing my head down, leaning down to whisper to me.

"No, just lie here. Just feel. You feel how hard he's fucking you? Do you feel every inch of him inside you, Bella?" I whimper in response, not able to find the words. His hand is heavy on my neck, his thumb rubbing my pulse point. "Just lie there, pretty girl, and take it."

I come hard, screaming through my orgasm, fighting against Edward's body and Carlisle's hand on my neck. I cry and moan, rocking my hips against the bed. I feel fingers tighten in my hair, and I'm not sure whom they belong to. Edward slams into me, and I feel him coming inside me. Carlisle's hand disappears, as does the one in my hair, and Edward falls onto the bed next to me. I lose sight of Carlisle and feel him climb off the bed, so I turn to face my husband. He's sweating, panting, but gives me a lazy smile.

I hear the door to the playroom open and close, and Edward lifts his head to check. "He left," he whispers, brushing his fingers against my cheek. He leans over, kisses my nose, my cheeks, my lips. "Wow," he says.

"Mmmhmmm," I answer, smiling shyly. We lie there quietly, kissing, until Edward rolls me over onto my back. I wince at the soreness, but it really isn't too bad once I relax. He checks the red spot on my side where the falls had struck me too hard, and seems satisfied that I'm not permanently damaged.

I move to sit up and feel the mess running down my thighs. Edward pushes me back down and hops up, pulling his pants on and running to the bathroom for a washcloth. He comes back and cleans me up, holding me sweetly for a few minutes while we both calm down. Eventually he gathers up my clothes, helping me dress again. When I stand up, he offers me my shoes. I take them out of his hand and carry them with me, not ready to put on the punishing heels again.

Edward holds my hand as we walk through the hall, down the stairs, and look around for Carlisle. He's sitting in the living room, waiting, wearing a t-shirt and some pajama pants. I want to ask him why he didn't touch himself in the playroom this time--maybe that's why he left right away? I could see his erection when he crawled onto the bed, so I know he was excited. Maybe he expected me to touch him?

"How is everyone?" he asks, tossing Edward's shirt to him.

"Good," I answer, blushing. He's just seen me naked, begging to be whipped, and this is the first time I've felt embarrassed. Edward lets go of my hand to pull his shirt on, and I lean into his side as soon as he's finished. He chuckles, wrapping an arm around me.

"Sit down," Carlisle offers, gesturing to the couch. I hesitate, because I just want to go home and snuggle with Edward. Edward sits, though, pulling me down next to him.

"There are a few things I'd like you to think about at home before we do this again," he says, casually.

"Homework?" I ask, smiling.

Carlisle chuckles, leaning forward in his chair. "Sure, homework. In fact, I'd like you to write down your thoughts. You don't have to show me what you've written or talk to me about it, but I think you should talk to each other." Edward nods, squeezing my hand.

"Edward, I want you to plan out five scenes and write them down. I won’t give you any direction as to the details, except to say that you should consider the limits, needs, and desires that the two of you have discussed." Edward swallows audibly and nods. Carlisle moves to the small wet bar in the corner as he talks, pulling out a bottle of water. He holds it up to us, silently offering, and we both shake our heads.

"You can discuss them with Bella, and I encourage you to ask her questions, but don’t show her the final product. We’ll use those to guide our lessons from now on, and the element of surprise is... important.” Carlisle says softly, grinning as he settles back into his chair.

"Okay," Edward says, quietly.

"Bella? Your homework is a little different," Carlisle says, and I nod enthusiastically. "I want you to write a review of the scene we just finished here. What turned you on, what you didn't like, that sort of thing. Was there anything you would have done differently? It's crucial that you're honest."

"I can do that," I answer, eager to relive it in my memory.

"Good, good. The other thing I'd like you to discuss--together--is what you want out of this... partnership." He swirls the liquid in his glass, pensively, and continues. "I find it very satisfying to guide you, and I very much enjoy watching you, but I want us to all be on the same page. So the next time we come together, we will sit down and discuss the limits of our arrangement.”

I grip Edward's hand tightly, nodding, glad that Carlisle's brought this up. It will make it easier to start a conversation with Edward regarding boundaries while we’re in Carlisle’s playroom.

"Thanks, Carlisle," Edward says, standing and pulling me up with him. "We should probably get going, it's getting late."

Carlisle nods, sets his glass aside, and stands up to walk us to the door. He claps Edward on the shoulder and leans down to kiss my cheek politely, then leans against the doorframe to watch us as we walk down to the Volvo. I tiptoe down the sidewalk in my bare feet, still carrying my heels. Edward helps me into the car, closing the door behind me. I  close my eyes, exhausted, and drift off to sleep before we're out of the driveway.


End file.
